The TRU Sons of Liberty
by Phobos-Hell
Summary: Full o' spoilers...This is the truth behind the Big Shell Incident. Don't succumb to the lies of the government! If you want to protect yourself from political propoganda read this fic!
1. No Need For Acquaintances

The Boring Pre-story Crap: Greetings, I am Phobos-Hell, the one who will be presenting this fanfic unto you - the populous of aspiring writers of this site. It's a MGS2 fic, you know. Kick ass game, too. But I'm lazy, so in case you notice some missing things or false facts, uh, get over it? JK I haven't played it in a while, and it uh…it takes place in an alternate universe. Second of all, Kojima Hideo Sama, I am sorry for butchering your script and degrading your characters in such ways that would bring a man to tears ( or at least say ew really loud).

(Bows to Kojima Shrine) Of course, I do not own any of the plot, script (except the parts that are supposed to be funny but will have people saying What the Fuck?), characters, or tampons. Nor do I own the skill of crafting a complex tapestry of plot twists and mind-bending, mind numbing, pants-soiling storylines - that belongs to the master himself - Hideo, Hideo, Hideo…

Setting: Some big ass building over some big ass sea. The marine water treatment plant: the 'Big Shell'. (Big 'Shell'? Hmm…sign of things to come, maybe?)

From the briny deep, a slim man in a skull suit ascends into the 'Shell's bay. Even though a kinky-looking mask covers his face, his silky blonde hair flows free and unfettered - ah, fuck this guy's description, he's a fag. You get the picture, don't ya?

Believe it or not, folks, this guy - Raiden - is the hero of the story. The main honcho, and the big shit himself - Colonel Campbell - calls this dude up.

Campbell: Raiden, do you copy?

Raiden's Codec ringtone pops up: Mail, mothafucka! Mail, mothafucka!

Raiden: (voice sounds all weird - kinda like he's about to molest somebody) Yes, I'm here. I rode some kick-ass waves on the way, too. Wicked A!

Campbell: What the hell is wrong with your voice? You sound like Micheal Jackson on crack.

Raiden: (Pouts like a punk-ass bitch) Are you gonna poking fun at me the whole mission?

Cambell: Hmm, probably. Can't say it doesn't sound promising. Anyway, we need code names - cause people who don't are just gay.

Raiden: But, Raiden is my code name. You know my real name is -

Campbell: No, no, no. (holds up finger) NEVER interrupt the colonel while he's talking. It gets him very…flustered. As I was saying before somebody started bitching, you will be Agent Dipshit. As for me, call me…(puts on cape and toots kazoo) GW!

(To all MGS2 players: we all know who that is, don't we?)

Raiden: (Pondering) Dipshit…sounds familiar. That's what Rose called me when I used this kid's birthday balloon as a condom. (Realizes something) Hey, that's an insult! I don't like that name! Where is Rose anyway, isn't she supposed to be on this mission, too? It says so in the Sons of Liberty manual…

(Muffling noises in the background) Campbell: Uh…she's sick. Screw the code names, then. Just take off the mask.

Raiden: (sounding nervous) I…I…I cant! If I do, something bad will happen!

Campbell: Ah, quit your whining. I'm a colonel, and you're a lowly fag - do what I say!

Raiden takes off mask, revealing his faggish good looks. Campbell thinks otherwise, though.

Campbell: Good God, man! Put that thing back on! That's gotta be illegal!

Raiden: Told you, Colonel. (Tries to put it on, but it wont fit) Aww, shit….

Raiden notices little floating boxes containing a SOCOM, a P90, and other dangerous shit. ( I know the P90 isn't at the 'Shell, but who cares? It's my fic!)

Campbell: (gasps) How'd you get that? You're not supposed to get the item 'dangerous shit' until you get to the armory!

Raiden: (holds up Action Replay MAX) Cheat codes, mothafucka!

Campbell: (scoffs) What a pussy…

Raiden: No thanks, I prefer men.

Getting closer to the door, Raiden stumbles upon a box of tampons.

Raiden: Is this some kind of sick joke! Who left these here? Colonel?

Campbell: Wasn't me. Some bitch must have left them. What would a girl be doing in a place like this, though? Well Raiden don't let 'em go to waste, though! (laughs wildly at Raiden)

Raiden: I hate my life - I'm gonna kill myself!

Colonel: No, don't do that! You can't die until MGS4 comes out. Besides, don't be offended by my words. I'm just a extremely deceptive, adaptive artificial intelligence program formulated by the world-moving, underground organization called the PATRIOTS. I am only a malevolent figment of your pedophilic imagination, created to lead you into a virtual, matrix-esque trap for fools based on Metal Gear Solid. Your entire mission will be nothing more than a complex web of half-truths and whole-lies - lies carefully woven from and into the dangerous essence that is: Metal Gear Solid. You are in a maze of conspiracies - playing a degrading, pitiful role as a rat looking for cheese. What is the cheese? TRUTH! Who is that rat? YOU!

Raiden: (sniffing tampons) No shit? Hey, this one's been used already!

Campbell: God, I can't wait till this is over…


	2. The SOL Tutorial

The Boring Pre-story Crap: Greetings, I am Phobos-Hell, the one who will be presenting this fanfic unto you - the populous of aspiring writers of this site. It's a MGS2 fic, you know. Kick ass game, too. But I'm lazy, so in case you notice some missing things or false facts, uh, get over it? JK I haven't played it in a while, and it uh…it takes place in an alternate universe (let's go with that...). Second of all, Kojima Hideo Sama, I am sorry for butchering your script and degrading your characters in such ways that would bring a man to tears ( or at least say ew really loud).

(Bows to Kojima Shrine) Of course, I do not own any of the plot, script (except the parts that are supposed to be funny but will have people saying What the Fuck?), characters, Crank Yankers or tampons. Nor do I own the skill of crafting a complex tapestry of plot twists and mind-bending, mind numbing, pants-soiling storylines - that belongs to the master himself - Hideo, Hideo, Hideo…

**The SOL Tutorial**

Raiden gets to the door. To his horrified surprise, he spots a guard getting up off of the floor.

Raiden: Like, OHMIGOD! What do I do, what do I do, what do I DO!

Colonel: Stop screaming like a friggin girl, dipshit. Now, tell daddy what's wrong…(makes disturbing cooing noises)

Raiden: Terror-man…big scary gun…AN-94...Makarov…big guy…Hmm…kinda sexy!

Colonel: I've got it! Raiden, use your girlish looks to distract the guard.

So. Raiden flirts with the terrorist.

Generic Terrorist Grunt: Hey sexy thang! We don't get ho's like you in Russia. Let me get dem digits!

Raiden: Ooh, such a big strong man! (giggles) I might give you my number, if you let me see that gun of yours…

Terrorist: (pulls down pants) I'll let you see my barrel…

Raiden tries to keep his hands off the terrorist's unmentionables. (SLICE!) cuts off the soldier's wang.

Terrorist: Sweet mother of Stalin! (Dies of…I don't know - dick loss?)

Next, Raiden sees two unconscious soldiers in the next room. He spots a computer terminal in the corner.

Campbell: Raiden, walk up to that console.

Raiden: But it's big and scary! What'll happen?

Campbell: It'll give you a wicked-ass orgy…

Raiden: Weee! (touches screen) AHHHH!

After being almost fried by electric volts, the state of the art detection system - Soliton Radar- activates.

Too bad the guards are up, though. Raiden hides behind crate.

Raiden: Shiznit! I need a diversion!

He selects the item "WANG" on the items list. Terrorist 1 yawns, and gets a mouthfull of severed weenie.

Terrorist 1: Hey, this ain't a hot dog!

Terrorist 2 tries to pull it out, but Raiden caps 'em both in the head.

Raiden: Oh my God - I've killed! My hands will forever be stained with blood! I'm a fucking murderer!

Campbell: Ah, get over it. Now, go retreive the weenie for further use. And haul ass to the elevator. Get that thing out of your mouth!

Raiden takes the elevator, and reaches the 'Shells surface. He takes a deep, relaxing inhale - interrupted when a seagull takes a dump on his face.

Seagull: Squawk - Fag! - Squawk!

Raiden opens another door, meeting the barrel of an AN-94.

Terrorist: (Gasp!) Enemy sighted! Requesting backup unit! (Moves around stupidly without shooting)

Raiden: Uh…aren't you going to shoot me? (pats his chest) Defenseless here!

Terrorist: Well, this is a Metal Gear game. Which means its my job to stand hear and make scary sounds and do terrorist things. Why? Cause Kojima Hideo sama is such a nice guy, that he gives his players a chance to run or -

Raiden: shoot them? (puts SOCOM to terrorist's face)

Terrorist: Oh…(realizes his impending doom) Yea - AGH! (gets capped)

Pretty soon, Raiden turns from wuss to badass in just a few minutes. This shell is cleared! He's about to cross this suspiciously empty-looking bridge. Suddenly, a message beeps on his CODEC.

: Yo, ma nizzle! I got some in fizzle you may wanna hizzle!

Raiden: Whuu?

: I got some info, asshole! What'd you think I said?

Raiden: Is this some kinda prank call? Is this Crank Yankers? I will not be the object of lewd public entertainment! I got your number, asshole! 144.14!

: Yeah, whatever…My name's Mr. X I'm one of your biggest fans.

Raiden: Mr. X? What kind of name is that? Are you a pimp or something? I warning you - I ain't gonna be your ho!

Campbell: Heh, heh, that's right…He's taken!

Mr. X: Listen, dawg. There's a shitload of C4 on this bridge, and in this whole freaking place. And there's an ugly, fat dude in the next shell. If you wanna know about blowing shit up, talk to him. If it's masterbation you want, call me up, holmes!

Raiden: Don't worry, I'm an expert in that field. Wait, how do I get across the bridge?

Mr. X: Hmm? Oh. Dunno.


	3. There's Something About Fat Men

The Boring Pre-story Crap: Greetings, I am Phobos-Hell, the one who will be presenting this fanfic unto you - the populous of aspiring writers of this site. It's a MGS2 fic, you know. Kick ass game, too. But I'm lazy, so in case you notice some missing things or false facts, uh, get over it? JK I haven't played it in a while, and it uh…it takes place in an alternate universe (let's go with that...). Second of all, Kojima Hideo Sama, I am sorry for butchering your script and degrading your characters in such ways that would bring a man to tears ( or at least say ew really loud).

(Bows to Kojima Shrine) Of course, I do not own any of the plot, script (except the parts that are supposed to be funny but will have people saying What the Fuck?), characters, Crank Yankers or tampons. Nor do I own the skill of crafting a complex tapestry of plot twists and mind-bending, mind numbing, pants-soiling storylines - that belongs to the master himself - Hideo, Hideo, Hideo…

**There's Something About Fat Men**

After getting several game overs, Raiden makes his way across the bridge. He finds his way to a lil' kitchen, complete with a fat guy in hiding.

Fat guy: How'd you find me? My cover was ingenious!

Raiden: Dude, you're in a box of condoms…

Fat guy: It's a hobby. Hell, worked for Snake in Metal Gear Solid. (Holds up MGS cd to audience) Buy today for only $9.99!

Raiden: Yeah, but this is a new MG game. Which means two things: one - great action, violence, profanity, guns, long, played-out explanations worthy of a movie (that's a hint to you arses in Hollywood) and other great shit. And two - somebody's gotta piss in their pants.

Fat guy: …..

Raiden:….Well, I'm not doing it!

Fat guy: (shakes head in pity) My name is Peter Stillman. I know stuff. I'm fat. And I have a munky!

Charles (munky): Oooh, oooh, - fag! - ooh, ooh!

Raiden: Damn you, munky…(eye twitches) And what kind of name is (snickers) 'Peter'?. Sounds like some lame-ass name you made up yourself!

Peter: Stop laughing! As a matter of fact, I did name myself. My momma named me…Kristal

Raiden: (Busting out laughing and pointing at Kristal) 'Kristal'! Oh, man, that's rich. You must have had a hard time at school!

Peter/Kristal: And you didn't?

All the taunt and ridicule of the past comes back to Raiden. A tear falls from his eye.

Raiden: (sniff) I don't wanna talk about it!

Peter/Kristal: So, who are you, anyway? I didn't think they'd send a drag queen in to stop a hostile terrorist insurgency.

Raiden: I'm Agent Dipshit - I mean Raiden! (Damn you, Colonel)

A knock comes from the door.

Peter/Kristal: It's Solidus! Hide me, quick!

Raiden: Hide over there by that box of watermelons - he'll never tell the difference!

BOOM! The door gets kicked down by a man - who looks suspiciously like Snake. He holds an M4 in his hand. He whacks Raiden with it.

Guy Who Isn't Snake: Oops. My bad. If I knew you were a girl I wouldn't have knocked the shit outta you!

Raiden: I'm a boy!

Guy Who Isn't Snake: Could've fooled me. Well, you still look like a girl to me, so I'll call you Sarah. My name's Pliskin (Mullet waves in slow motion, MGS2 theme plays) Iroquois Pliskin.

Raiden/Sarah: My name is RAIDEN! Hmm…I could get used to Sarah, though…

Pliskin: Sure, Sarah. Who's the fatass in the melon box?

Peter/Kristal: You can see me? I thought you said this was a good spot, Raiden!

Raiden: (shrugs) Moron

Pliskin: Dumbfuck

Charles: Fatass…Bannanas!

Everyone laughs at Peter. Later, Raiden tells Peter about their little bobm problem.

Peter/Kristal: (Holds up C4 detector) This little puppy's like a bloodhound. It'll sniff out the C4 in no time. Just push this lil button, and there you go. I also know the culprit behind this shit - Fatman!

Pliskin: A fatman! You mean YOU planted the bombs (whacks him with M4) you evil bastard!

Peter/Kristal: No, you idiot! Fatman's a terrorist. Somebody's gotta take him out. (peers at Raiden)

Raiden/Sarah: Ooh, I like fat men!

Pliskin: Too much information…Kristal, any girls around this place? I need to release myself.

Kristal: 'Fraid not

Pliskin: Shizznit!

Raiden, Pliskin, and Charles finally diffuse the C4 bombs. While Raiden and Charles are busy playing gin rummy, Pliskin visits Peter again.

Peter/Kristal: Pliskin? What are you doing here? Go take care of those bombs.

Pliskin punches him in the stomach.

Peter/Kristal: OW! What'd I do? (PUNCH!) AGHH!

Pliskin: Don't mind me, I'm gonna pick on you before Sarah and Charles get back. (PUNCH!)

Peter/Kristal: Why? I didn't do anything to you! (PUNCH!)

Pliskin: Cause you're fat. I don't like fatties. (PUNCH!)

Meanwhile, Raiden and Charles corner Fatman on the roof.

Raiden/Sarah: Colonel, I see Fatman! Do I have to fight him?

Campbell: Duh. But don't worry, he's fat. He can't do shit. Plus you have a munky!

Charles (with a banana flavored blunt): Oooh, ooh! You're on your own, fag!


	4. Overkill

The Boring Pre-story Crap: Greetings, I am Phobos-Hell, the one who will be presenting this fanfic unto you - the populous of aspiring writers of this site. It's a MGS2 fic, you know. Kick ass game, too. But I'm lazy, so in case you notice some missing things or false facts, uh, get over it? JK I haven't played it in a while, and it uh…it takes place in an alternate universe (let's go with that...). Second of all, Kojima Hideo Sama, I am sorry for butchering your script and degrading your characters in such ways that would bring a man to tears ( or at least say ew really loud).

(Bows to Kojima Shrine) Of course, I do not own any of the plot, script (except the parts that are supposed to be funny but will have people saying What the Fuck?), characters, Crank Yankers, Neo, any of the various digital incarnations of the A.I 'Agent Smith', or tampons. Nor do I own the skill of crafting a complex tapestry of plot twists and mind-bending, mind numbing, pants-soiling storylines - that belongs to the master himself - Hideo, Hideo, Hideo…

**Overkill**

Fatman and Raiden face each other off on the 'Shells rooftop. Raiden hears the C4 ticking all around him. Not much time left…

Fatman: 'Ello, govna'! My name is Fatman. (He bows very gentleman-like) But you can call me Fattie Fats!

Raiden/Sarah: (Pisses his tights) Shit! Why did I have to do it?

Author (sipping Smirnoff): I just shook up a bag o' names, and I came up with you. Tough luck, mothafucka!

Raiden/Sarah: I hate this world…Fattie - your reign of terror ends now!

Fattie: Reign of terror? Pshaw… All I ever did was stash a shitload o' C4 in this hellhole of a base, blow up a school bus full of third world country children, steel all the federal reserve from Fort Knox, threaten to blow up the White House, kidnapped the president's son, ate my weight in Whoppers - without paying, and knocked up a couple of housewives for fun. None of that qualifies as 'terrible', now does it?

Raiden/Sarah: I didn't know President Johnson had a son…

Fattie: Neither does anyone else - and I'm keeping that way! Little Johnny's all mine! (makes cooing noises, and takes a sip of wine) But if you've come looking for a fight - you've sure as hell found one! YEE FUCKIN' HAW!

Raiden/Sarah: You can't do nothing to me - you're a fatass. Which means you're slow! (Sticks out tongue)

Fattie: (Flips him off) So what, I got a fuckin' Uzi! Or whatever the hell this thing is. (Looks at gun and caps Charles) Yep--It's an Uzi. Plus, I can do this! (sticks out his ass and farts, moving at the speed of light)

Raiden/Sarah: What the?

Fattie: MEGA-SUPER-BAKERETSU-FATTIE-SMASH-ATTACK! BOOOOOM!

Raiden slips on a seagull terd, Fattie misses him and flies off the roof…

Fattie: Agghhhh! I forgot my fuckin' wine!

Raiden/Sarah: That was…easy. I still think I'm forgetting something, though…

He leaves the roof, with the C4 still tickin' away. BOOOM! Game Over, asshole.

Game player: Damn, I suck at this game. (Pushes continue)

Raiden/Sarah: That was…easy. Time to leave.

Mr. X: What the hell you thinking, fool! You forgot the C4!

Raiden/Sarah: Whu?

Mr. X: The big clumps of boxes laying around you, dumbass!

Raiden/Sarah: Oh, Mr. X, those aren't bombs. They're girl scout cookies! I think they're from my troop, too! Takes a box, setting off the bomb.

This is going to take a while, so let's skip this cutscene and go to the next section, shall we?

Raiden gets to a bomb-rigged bridge, connected to the next shell. Mmm, more cookies!

Pliskin on codec: Let me remind you, miss sarah, those are not cookies! It's semtex. And if you don't snipe the little lights on the consoles, we'll all be in for it. So don't mess up! I'll be there to check on you on a moment, I have to get the Kasatka prepped.

Raiden snipes the bombs with a PSG-1.

Raiden: Oooh! I'm bad! (Licks his finger and sticks it on his ass.) Eww! Why'd I do that?

Pretty soon, a kickass harrier jet - flown by Solidus himself - flies over head.

Solidus: Who do we have here! A little girl trying to foil my plans for world domination! How many times do I have to tell you, Raiden - get out of my water treatment facility!

Raiden: You never let me have any fun! Wahhhh!

Solidus: Ah, shut up…(Launches missiles at the bridge)

Raiden: Colonel, some friggin' maniac is trying to snuff me out! I don't wanna dieeeee!

Colonel: (smacks Raiden) Get a hold of yourself, man - er, whatever you are…

Raiden: How'd you smack me through the cocec?

Campbell: I'm a colonel, Agent Dipshit - I can do very nifty shit like that. Where's Pliskin? He's deceiving you and he can't be trusted and will probably shoot in the back of your head, but he can still help you.

Raiden (dodging missiles): Pliskin - where the hell are you. I need some backup!

Pliskin: Huh? Hey, shutup, Sarah - I can't hear the t.v. They're showing a 5 hour marathon of Sex and the City! That's my fav show in the whole wide world. (Claps and laughs giddily)

Raiden: But I -

Pliskin: Shhhh! Shush, you!

Colonel: Ah, screw him, then. He'll be dead in the next year or so…(laughs evily) We'll send a guy over there now.

From the tattered remains of the bridge, a cloaked figure arises from the flames. He has smooth black hair, which matches his silky long coat and sunglasses. A stinger missile launcher is slung over his shoulder and he smokes a black and mild.

Mysterious Dude: (Cough!) Damn cigs…Oh, hey there. I'm Neo. (Hype techno music plays, and he fights off a dozen Agent Smiths - sunglasses still intact, mind you) And I kick ass!

Raiden: Really? Then let us both do with the ass-kicking - shall we?


End file.
